Judas

Is Simplicity Best

Brian's POV

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The first thing I heard was ridiculously loud pounding on my door. "Justin, answer the fucking door," I mumbled. I reached over to shove him out of the bed, but felt nothing there. Then I remember that he wasn't there and wasn't going to be there again. Ever. I stumbled out of bed and answered the door to find Debbie standing there in all her red-wigged glory holding a couple of boxes. She brushed past me before I could muster the energy to ask what the hell she was doing.

"You alone?" She paused long enough for me to nod and then continued, "Good. I'm here for Justin's things. I won't be long."

I raised an eyebrow at that. I guess the little shit didn't want to face me. "He ask you to do that?"

"No, I volunteered. I want to have his room ready before he comes home tonight."

As much as Deb drives me crazy, I have to love her for giving me the information I want without making me ask for it. So Justin wasn't moving in with his new love. He was going back to Deb's. That was probably the best place for him, not that I cared. I pretended not to hear her and headed for the bathroom, "I'm going to take a shower. Wander freely. You always do."

I stayed in the bathroom as long as I could, hoping to avoid a lecture from Debbie. There was no point in dwelling on last night. What's done is done. Justin is gone just like I always knew he would be. Talking about it or remembering the exact circumstances of his departure won't change anything. So why bother? Time to move on. Now if I can just get everyone else to let it go, I'll be fine.

I walked out to find Debbie in my bedroom neatly folding shirts. This was eerily reminiscent of another time she came to loft to pack up someone's belongings. Of course, I had Justin to fix that situation. There was no fixing this one. I silently handed her a bag of Justin's toiletries and moved to the living room to sort out his CDs and DVDs.

"Boy, considering how long he lived here, there's not that much to take."

I bit my tongue to keep from reminding her that his stay here was supposed to be temporary. Just until he was better. I guess he needed violin music to heal. I didn't say any of this. I settled for a warning "Debbie," and continued sorting.

"I know, I know. Stay out of it. Don't worry I have no intention of interfering this time. No real point, is there? He expected too much of you, and you expected too little of him. In the end, you both got what you wanted. Congratulations."

I rubbed my temples in a futile attempt to stop the headache already forming. Then I turned to glare at Debbie, "I thought you were staying out of it?"

"I am." She smiled at my look of disbelief. "I've had my say, and now I'm done with it. But I love you both, so don't expect me to take sides."

I didn't have a response for that last remark so I ignored it. "Make sure you have all of his sketchbooks. There should be five. And don't forget his computer."

"You'll have to get the computer for me. I can never figure out how to unhook those electronic gadgets."

I packed up the computer and then endured another twenty minutes of Deb searching every corner of the loft for Justin's possessions. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Jesus, Deb if I find anything else, I'll send it right over."

I shooed her to the door and managed to force her out after only one hug and a promise to take care of myself. Sometimes Deb makes me remember why I don't mind my own mother's absence. I always hated being fussed over.

Once I had the loft to myself, I unplugged the phone and decided to spend the rest of the day relaxing. I deserved it. It was certainly better than dealing with Lindsay's sympathy and Michael's outrage on my behalf. I'll face all that tomorrow. A few well placed "fuck off"s and a full return to Babylon should get everyone off my back. I wish I could believe that. Unfortunately, I know my friends better than that. Justin leaving is far more interesting than anything going on in their dull pointless lives. It will be discussed, dissected, and analyzed a hundred times over.

Until I'm ready to kill every last one of them. But fuck it, let them have their fun. Because they can't touch me. I am the heartless shit Ted once described me as. Justin barely made a ripple in my life when he was here; I'm sure as hell not going to let his disappearing act bother me. Eventually they'll see not a God damn thing has changed. If I let them live that long.

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I should be going to bed now, but I'm restless. I got quite a bit of work done already. What else is there to do on a Sunday afternoon. Besides, I never was good at relaxing. At least not alone. The couple of drinks I had with dinner haven't hit me yet. Maybe I'll hook up with someone online. For some reason, the thought really doesn't appeal to me. I'm tempted to plug the phone back in because the silence is killing me. But I really don't want to talk to anyone yet. Maybe some music. I really need to get some new CDs because there isn't a damn thing here worth listening to.

I'm reduced to wandering around the loft. Just looking at everything. This is ridiculous. There's not even anything to straighten. Everything is perfect. The loft is back to the way it should be. Quiet, peaceful, orderly. The way it's supposed to be. There are no books on the counter, no couch cushions on the floor to be used as pillows, no open cupboard doors. God that used to drive me crazy. I mean how hard it to close a door after opening it.

I told Justin once the loft was only big enough for me. I guess we both should have listened. Deb said he didn't have much stuff here. Maybe she was right, but it felt like I was always tripping over his stuff. His clothes, his books, his toothbrush, him. I hated that. I was always meant to be alone. There's a reason Michael lives with Emmett and not me. I need my privacy and my space. Not to mention my tricks. Now I have it all back. I can bring tricks home whenever I want. But no way in hell is anyone ever spending the night again. I learned my lesson.

Looking around the perfectly uncluttered loft, I start to feel more at home. This is my home after all. And now everything is back normal, to the way I like it. I feel in control again. I have my life back. No more pretending to be concerned with someone else's feelings. That was never me. I live my life my way, my rules. No more compromising or second guessing myself. I look around the loft again and realize I'm free. Deb really did me a favor this morning. There is nothing left of him here. It's all me. No reminders, no traces of him, no regrets. Right. One more drink then I'll head for the bedroom. MY bedroom. My perfect, quiet, peaceful bedroom. Just the way I want it. Maybe I'll take a few extra minutes and put the new silk sheets on the bed. Then it really will be perfect. Neat, clean, quiet, peaceful. Empty.

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